


Untamed

by brokibrodinson



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Established Relationship, Father/Son Incest, Kink Meme, Kink: Hairpulling, Kink: Long Hair, M/M, Out-Of-Place Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 01:40:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokibrodinson/pseuds/brokibrodinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haytham <i> really </i> likes Connor's long hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untamed

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [prompt](http://asscreedkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/2158.html?thread=11209070#cmt11209070):  
> "Alright, I have been thinking about this for way too long.  
> Connor's hair is so short, and while the small ponytail in the back is adorable, I bet he would look good with _really long hair._  
>  Like, past his _ass_ long.  
>  He normally keeps it in a messy bun and in his hood, so no one knows except for Achilles, but maybe he takes off his hood at a Brotherhood meeting, and they marvel at the large amount of hair he has, or he is hanging out with the lovely ladies of the homestead, and they beg him to let them do his hair.  
> There can be a pairing (and smut if you want, because _hairpulling_ ), I particularly like ConHayth and ConWash, but those are my preferences. You can choose whichever you want.  
> He can still have the side braid, and maybe he keeps feathers in his hair? I don't know.  
> Just really long hair.  
>  **TL:DR** Connor has hair past his butt and people love it. Shipping and/or smut is optional."

Haytham _adores_ Connor’s hair. He’d never say it aloud of course, but hardly makes a secret of it regardless.

Such thick, sleek tresses, he thinks admiringly, his fingers threading through the long strands in a strong grip. They add to the boy’s already wild appearance, making him appear fearsome and untamed.

He was wild, yes. But untamed? Well.

Pulling down harshly, Haytham wrenches Connor’s head back, baring his throat as Connor gasps in pleasure at the rough handling.

Connor struggles against his grip and growls deep in his throat, but they both know full well at this point that he will give his father whatever he wants. This is hardly their first time.

Smirking, Haytham leans in, hot breath dancing along the lines of Connor’s sensitive throat. It had taken some time to get Connor used to his neck and throat being touched (unsurprising, considering that incident with Charles when he was a child, Haytham thinks) but these days Connor is far more amenable to the contact.

Trying to relieve some of the strain on his neck, Connor leans his head back, baring his throat further in a beautiful display of submission. Haytham tightens his grip approvingly, cock twitching as Connor’s growls change to moans of pleasure.

Haytham dips his head to trace Connor’s throat with his tongue, Connor gasping at the sensation while his eyelids flutter shut. Suddenly he jerks in surprise as Haytham teasingly scrapes his jugular with his teeth.

“D-damn you,” he snarls breathlessly, feeling Haytham smirk against his skin before beginning to mark him as his own with teeth and tongue both.

 

Yes, Connor’s hair truly was marvellous, Haytham thinks later, hand once again tangled in the silken strands as he pulls Connor’s face towards his arousal. Connor drops to his knees and gets to work with delightful eagerness. Haytham sighs in pleasure, enjoying the wet heat as his son’s lips wrap around his cock, swallowing him down with well-practised ease.

Tightening his grip in warning, Haytham gives the Assassin at his feet just enough time to brace himself before he is thrusting himself deep into the boy’s throat, fucking his mouth without mercy.

When he comes, he pulls himself free of Connor’s mouth to paint his hair and face with streaks of white, Connor wrinkling his nose as he is thoroughly debauched.

 

Before they sleep that night, Haytham pins Connor’s naked body to his bed with his weight, erection pressing stiffly against his rear with lascivious intent.

Connor tries to wrestle Haytham off him, too proud to give in without a fight. Haytham loves that about him. He wants to maintain control however – and isn’t that just like a Templar – and Connor is strong enough to overpower him if he sets his mind to it, so Haytham grabs hold of his son’s hair and wrenches his head back into an angle that allows for very little movement. Connor shudders beneath him, responds hungrily to Haytham’s heated kisses.

Growling something filthy in Kanien’kéha, Connor bites Haytham’s bottom lip as his hips thrust up against his hard length. Haytham fights to restrain himself, hearing the obscenity drop from Connor’s lips.

Connor doesn’t want restraint. Luckily he knows the words guaranteed to make Haytham lose his ironclad control. Continuing to grind up against Haytham, he smiles secretly to himself as he whispers, “Father, _please_...”

Control snapping, Haytham slams forcefully into his son, both of them gasping as he does so.

Then they are fucking, pure and unbridled, Connor’s teeth bared in a feral snarl as his body rises to meet Haytham’s on every thrust.

 

They are not always thus, however.

One cold rainy day, Connor finds himself seated in front of his father’s fireplace, long hair pushed over his broad shoulders as Haytham threads the thick locks through his fingers, plaiting them into a braid.

No doubt the next day they will once again be snapping at each other’s throats, fighting for control, but in this moment there is peace. Connor is relaxed, enjoying the feel of his hair treated lovingly by clever hands while Haytham delights in this rare opportunity to simply touch.

Usually Connor’s long tresses are bound in a dishevelled bun and hidden under his ever-present hood; it is a pleasant change to be able to feel it against his fingers without forcing the contact.

Finishing the braid, he ties the end off and pushes it to one side, leaning over to press a light kiss to Connor’s throat. The gesture is undoubtedly possessive but oddly tender all the same, and Connor feels it warm him to the core.

 

_you called me feral_

_and played with my hair_

_but I felt tamed_

_by your hands_

(~ _anonymous_ )


End file.
